


In Depth Again

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Arguing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, It might just be worth a shot, M/M, Major Character Injury, Memory Loss, Mentioned Rape/Noncon, Size Difference, Slash, rare pair hell, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-02-26 01:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: Breakdown had gotten kidnapped by MECH... Again. He got saved by an autobot... Again. And now said autobot is suffering multiple injuries andmemory lossand needed to be escorted back to the autobots. Just how will Breakdown make it through this?Go on everyone. Give BreakBee some luv. Like I always say, "Every pairing is one worth giving a shot."





	1. Chapter 1

The explosion had rattled something out of place inside his head. Glass shards rained bruisingly down from what ever window decided to implode from the pressure of the blast. Sounds became an echoing field of building erosion. Crusted and burnt shards went flying into the air, scraping painfully against armor, and Bumblebee found himself lying there in the middle of it all.

Despite the temporary loss of recognition and coherency, Bumblebee could make out the many small, dark figures running in a desperate attempt to flee from the burning massacre of their own kind they had left behind. He hadn't meant to shoot the shuttle in which contained millions of gallons of very human, and very flammable gasoline. It wasn't like he had an earth guide to openly explain these things to him. He should feel like a failure and an abomination, but he didn't. MECH was far too big of an enemy at this point for Bumblebee to feel any type of self disagreement for. They brought this upon themselves, honestly. It wasn't Bumblebee's fault that they messed with the wrong bots and had to burn for it.

Bumblebee's systems groaned in a beeping way, his HDU spinning as warnings flooded his vision. He tried moving his arm underneath him to help push himself away from the face flushed ground. His spark pounded in agony, and he idly wondered if something was wrong there too. From what little he offered a glimpse to, he had ruptured something important in his leg, his left optic had something jammed in it, his side had been slashed open, his door wing was viscously cracked and he was feeling tremendous pain in his spark area. As he sat up, energon poured from the large gapping mess in his hip, spreading out across the hot ground and sizzling.

Looking up, Bumblebee still barely had any collected coherence to sense the unknown danger of the situation he was currently laying bare in. He saw a blurry, dark grey sky, big, rising towers, a bright, blinding light and something strange reaching down quickly ubove him.

So wounded that he was nearly hysterical, Bumblebee released a confused, yet wondering beep as something hard and strong grabbed him by the arm. His processor was half online but yet working its limits filtering out all the damage it could, so his world of vision and ability to properly think became obstructed, wonderful, confusing, almost funny.

Bumblebee beeped again as he felt himself being picked up, a sudden warmth blasting into his frame as he stared up at the vastly moving grey clouds, laughing a buzzy beep at their peculiar shapes. Maybe he was racing with them, maybe they were racing each other, maybe that bright light was the sun winning the game and those buildings were cheering him on.

Bumblebee beeped several times like what was happening was the funnest thing ever, his fit of internal hysteria wiped clean by the only coherent part of his struggling processor. He awed the light again, reaching out for it with crushed finger tips and beeping. Stasis began taking over his body, and he felt the energy course through his frame so strongly that he past out in a instant.

* * *

 

Breakdown ran from the underground train tunnel, the yellow autobot held tightly in his arms as he raced up the hill to get to the woods. He growled to himself, his back aching from the incision and wrists horribly sore from the tampering, but it was all over now. It was all over and it was thanks to this tiny, little, yellow bot in his arms.

Breakdown waved the smoke from the explosion away, and darted into the trees. The autobot in his arms beeped and chirped something rhythmical, strange, almost cute. Too bad he didn't have time to find out what it was about. He'd rather get lost in the woods forever with this little autorodent then to go back there and risk getting caught by those foul creatures again.

Once Breakdown was far enough into the thick woods that his signal became tainted with heavy static, he came to a stop amongst a reasonably sized gap in the trees, kneeling down to set the autobot on the ground. His body trembled slightly, the remnants of human torture still buzzing through his frame. He ran a diognostic and found that some of his main fuel lines had been stripped clean from his body, making him feel emptier, more vulnerable and less essential to pack energon. Being a wrecker build, he was made with a complex system that could stand the worst of almost anything thrown at him, and that also meant more energon storage compartments.

However, it appeared that the humans had attempted to empty some of the major content in his frame. For what reasons why, Breakdown did not know. It wasn't just fuel lines and circuits that were missing. Bolts, important rotator cuffs, main stream wires and even some of the deeply hidden mesh within his armor was missing. Mostly in his arms and upper torso. It was like they were trying to... empty him.

Shaking his helm, Breakdown decided to sit down clumsily against the floor of dry sticks and leaves below. Leaning against a tree, he looked up through the lines of naked branches and just stared, thinking back over the entire length of this incredibly long day. He had been captured by MECH... again. Of course Megatron didn't bat an optic ridge of concern or else he'd already be back at the nemesis giving Knockout a new buff job. And of course, like last time, another puny, small minded autobot just had to go great lengths to save him from those dastardly humans. And of course Breakdown had to help get the little yellow bot out of there because he did save him, and those humans were past the line of delusional sociopathic morons.

Breakdown never usually cared what humans did or were about, but some of the things he'd seen made him wonder just exactly why Optimus Prime defended them. Not that he had any say, really. Decepticons weren't any brighter in any nature of sanity or mercy. But when it came to separate species, there had to be a line drawn somewhere because Cybertronians were not meant to be hunted, poached, mounted or eaten.

But... why did he do it? Why did he do it?

After a bit of cycling his abused intakes, Breakdown spared the yellow bot a glance and wondered if he was still alive or not. His vents were soundful although a bit faint and slow, his body rumbled with broken complaints of a damaged system and he beeped softly every so often. Breakdown tilted his helm and repeated the two unanswered questions in his helm. Why did Bumblebee save him? And why did he save Bumblebee?

Sighing, Breakdown offlined his optic and lectured himself; this really needed to stop happening. He needed to stop feeling so in debt to those who saved him. They needed to stop saving him. And... well... he needed to stop getting himself into need to be saved situations. It was a Megatron discipline worth weakness, and Breakdown did not want to suffer it.

In the minor recovery of the perplexing event that occurred just moments ago, Breakdown found himself eagerly lifting himself forward when the yellow autobot began shuffling on the ground. He balled his fists, ready to strike in case the autobot stroke first. "Alright, explain yourself," he said in a no nonsense tone, wincing at the faint tickle of static in his vocals.

The autobot shuffled some more, rolling over onto his back and looking pointedly up at the sky as he clicked and beeped. Breakdown couldn't understand the rather unintentional beeps, but he could tell that the autobot was confused and in pain. He looked awful.

Bumblebee's paint was scratched up and pieces of his yellow armor were singed from the explosion. He had something stuck in the lenses of his left optic, his chest plate was hanging straight open, his right door wing hung carelessly down on his back, his side was leaking energon and his leg looked like it had been thrown in a grinder.

Breakdown cringed.

Bumblebee began to look around, his optics spinning in confusion, wonder and... fear? "Where... where am I?" he beeped, his body posture hiding in most certain pain and internal repairings.

Breakdown raised an optical ridge. "You're in the woods," he stated like it was obvious, watching as the bot raised a shaking servo to his neck and felt around.

"Woods?" he repeated, "What are woods? What is this place? Wh-where's Megatron? What happened?"

"Whoa now," Breakdown drew out in a dazed voice, confused and alarmed by the autobot’s off behavior all the sudden. He paused, taking in the panicked look on his face and examining how he held his neck as if to protect it. Hesitantly, he rose his servo and gestured to the ground, "You're on planet earth and Megatrons... not here."

He didn't know why he actually took time to say that, but there was something so off about the bot that it made him curious to know what was wrong. Baby blue optics landed dead on him, bright and wide and genuinely confused. "Who are you?" the bot asked suspiciously, trying to scoot back in the murk.

"Who are you?" he beeped louder before looking around frantically, desperately attempting to get up but failing miserably which only served as an excuse to heighten his panic, "What is this place? Where's Megatron? Why am I here?"

"Alright, you need to calm down," Breakdown waved his servo harshly through the air as he stood up on unstable legs, wobbling slightly before he took a few steps forward to stand directly in front of the autobot. "Your circuits are just a little shortened out right now. Must have been the blast; probably' severed something in your processor."

"Blast?" Bumblebee beeped in sarcasm, or maybe it was disbelief, or maybe even mockery.

Breakdown had no clue, and he certainly wasn't in reach of any ideas except one. "You... don't remember?" he mumbled, taking a step back.

Bumblebee, sitting all vulnerable and scared in the murk, shook his helm and beeped to outline his true ignorance. "I remember Megatron... he... he..." Bumblebee drifted off and let his servo drop into his lap as he murmured horrifyingly to himself, "Have I been offline all this time?"

Ok, something was definitely wrong. It wasn't just a loose glitch or shortening out. Bumblebee had literally lost part of his memory and apparently was reflecting on some mayhem he had had with Lord Megatron. The way he shook and skittered and twitched around like the lord himself would jump from out of no where was more concerning than Breakdown would have liked it to be.

In some cases he would have found it amusing if it weren't so serious. His fingers curled over and over again as he debated on what he should do. "I... Look, I think you should get back to Optimus Prime."

"O-Optimus... Prime?" Bumblebee whispered like the name was familiar yet so far away that he couldn't quite grasp it, "Who's that?"

Breakdown swore his spark just dropped immediately to his tank as if his chassis just gave in. His optic was wide and the only indication of his rattled thoughts on the situation. He didn't know what to do. It wasn't like he could just give Bumblebee a polite history lesson about Megatron, Optimus and the war, not to mention Earth and the struggles that have been taking place on it. And he certainly didn't think he could explain exactly what just happened thirty minutes ago.

"Listen, uhh..." Breakdown rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the side, not sure how to address this information and be somewhat polite about it, "Optimus Prime is, uhh... like your leader... of the autobots."

It took effort not to insult the autobots, but Breakdown managed to make it through the explanation without stuttering a rude complaint. "Maybe if you just called him then he could come pick you up and help ya with your memory."

"My memory?" Bumblebee repeated in a soft, worried beep, "What's wrong with my memory?"

Breakdown was starting to get aggravated with trying to be kind and patient. "Look, scout, you were in an explosion that knocked you out, alright, I don't know anymore than you do right now. So just call the autobots and let them know your location... They'll help you."

Bumblebee sat there in silence for a minute, staring at the wrecker.

It was enough of a gaze to make Breakdown shift uncomfortably. He really just wanted to get back to the nemesis. He didn't have time for memory dump restoration right now.

"Who are you?"

Breakdown hadn't expected the suddenly very personal and debate worth question, and he was clueless about how to answer it. Honestly, what should he say? That he was a decepticon from Lord Megatron’s army? That he had been a machine of war and chaos for years? That he's tried not only to kill Bumblebee, but Bumblebee's precious friends as well? Breakdown kept on imagining the outcome of each probability, and thought very shortly for a moment about what would happen if he lied.

This could be an efficient way to please Lord Megatron. Taking advantage of Bumblebee's memory and manipulating them into a fake story of some sort to get both information and a new recruit for the decepticon cause. Breakdown wasn't one to openly give positive feedback to people, especially autobots, but he would admit to himself that Bumblebee was a strong, brave, independent warrior, talented and smart when it came down to it. But... There was just something that felt so wrong about that idea, so, very, very wrong. Breakdown wasn't sure what, but he trusted his tank.

"Breakdown," He tensed, his voice slightly rough, "I'm a wrecker."

The yellow bot's face seemed to brighten for a moment, his optics spinning like a miniature galaxy that had just blasted to life. "A wrecker; that's great!" he made a smiling gesture with his optics, shifting as if wanting to get up, "You must know Bulkhead then?"

The implication only made the false wrecker cringe inside his helm. Yeah, he knew Bulkhead. Knew him as an enemy; a mech he was destined to kill. Sure there use to be a time when they were side by side buddies, inseparable only by tasks and pranks. At the time their friendship was mutual, real, honoring, a thing to be thankful of everyday. But Lord Megatron offered something better and Breakdown took his chances, chances that would influence only himself in the end. He never thought about what it would do to everyone else, never cared.

Breakdown grimaced at the rush of emotion in his spark. Why was he even thinking about this?

Bumblebee beeped, trying to sit up only to fall back on his aft and beep in further pain. "Do you have his location? 'Cause I could really use the help right now... Scrap... what happened?" Bumblebee hissed in static as he examined his injuries, reading the warnings that flashed on his barely visible HDU.

Breakdown could feel the very missing circuits in his body itch and tingle as he fought against what he should and shouldn't do, should and shouldn't say. He couldn't just tell the memory lost bot that he was a decepticon and that Bulkhead was actually one of his greatest enemies and that Bumblebee was actually one of his current targets. Then again, he couldn't just feed him lies either. Frag... why did telling the truth become so hard all the sudden?

Breakdown looked down and silently examined his injuries, realizing in a short moment of pity that Bumblebee received those wounds for him. He risked his body and more just to save Breakdown from what his faction wouldn't. That made Breakdown go stale. If it had been Soundwave or even Starscream, Megatron would have been right on his way to save them, but why not him? Why didn't Megatron save him? Why did it have to take a puny, little, autobot scout to save him?

"You were in an explosion," Breakdown started hesitantly, mentally kicking himself in the processor, "Probably why ya can't remember much, but your best bet is gettin' outta' here, calling the autobots and all that. They'll help ya figure everything else out."

Bumblebee beeped, "What about you?"

Breakdown turned his helm away, "I have... other places to be."

Bumblebee didn't look too deterred though. In fact, he seemed more confused than ever before. "What happened?" he asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

Breakdown scoffed and threw his servos in the air like it was meaningless, "I told ya, you were in an explosion. How many times do I have to say it?"

Bumblebee winced before a short glare took over his face and he beeped angrily. "Don't get mad at me! I'm not the one who knows exactly what's going on here, am I?"

"Yeah, and that makes you even more weak and vulnerable," Breakdown grumbled.

"That's only because I am weak and vulnerable!" Bumblebee barked, "Why are you being so difficult? I'm on your side."

Breakdown paused, so close to saying it but not quite coming out yet. He wasn't sure why, but the wrongness of saying it was so powerful that he ended up dictating his own words unprofessionaly. "I'm just sorta... at a loss," he mumbled quietly.

Bumblebee made a sarcastic wave with his servos, "I didn't notice."

Breakdown glared at him, cursing his processor for his decision. "Look, scout, I'm gonna say this once and that's it," he said strictly, lifting his servos to further emphasize his words, "You and me were on a mission, the mission failed, there was a big explosion-mostly your fault, I got you outta there and that brings us to the position we are in at this very moment."

There was another unsound pause, the flickering silence making even the crickets shudder in the distance. Bumblebee's optics spun as if he were calculating something, and Breakdown wondered if he had ever seen the scout so focused before. The look seemed so professional, so determined and just... there. For some off reason, it made Breakdown feel exposed, prodded and bare.

"Ok..." Bumblebee agreed albeit distantly, almost like he knew that this was a ploy but was taking his chances very slenderly, "How can I contact this... Optimus Prime?"

Thank goodness it wasn't the question Breakdown thought it would be. "Just use your commlink channel," he said with a vague gesture of his fingers.

Bumblebee shook his helm, buzzing, "It's not working."

Breakdown nearly wilted at that. Great! Just great, more time he had to spend paying off his little autobot savior. "What's it say?" he asked, knowing that Bee must have a warning about something.

Bumblebee waited a moment, probably reading over his warnings before saying, "It says 'signal unavailable.'"

Breakdown growled. His commlink was open, which meant that he could call the decepticons any time he wanted to... if his transmiter hadn't been stripped from his body that is. The realization downed upon him almost as horrifyingly as when he found out humans had managed to weaken him in the first place. "We'll have to walk then..."

Bumblebee blinked, once then twice, looking from left to right and then down at himself. "I'd love to," he chirped, and Breakdown wondered where all the feisty sass came from, "But uhh... looks like I won't be doing any of that anytime soon."

Old Bumblebee. Breakdown guessed. The scout must be living off of old personality, old thoughts and feelings. He really shouldn't be so angry at someone in this state, but Breakdown couldn't help but to finger his temple anyway. "You think I don't know that already?"

"Apparently not," Bumblebee's beeping even sounded sassy.

And boy did it punctuate Breakdown's list of insults and curses. "Oh, shut your mouth, autobot. I'm tryin' to figure this out," He snapped, erasing his glossa of complaints as he kneeled down to examine the bot's wounds.

"Why'd you call me autobot? It's Bumblebee," Bumblebee leaned back, clearly distrusting of the big, blue mech being so close to him.

"I know that," Breakdown griped, looking over Bumblebee's wounds and asking drly, "Can you transform?"

Bumblebee shook his helm, "Nope, but at this point I'd love to just so I didn't have to see your face again."

Oh. Oh, oh, oh! Breakdown was fired up like a bull, but also... kind of fired up in other ways too. He smirked and kneeled to the side, "And what'd I do to deserve that type of comment?" he asked innocently.

Bumblebee scoffed like it was obvious, "Your attitude for one thing, and the fact that you can't call me by my own name. Wh-what bot even does that; Call their friends by their own faction- like what is your problem?"

"Right now it's you," Breakdown snickered, getting extremely riled up by the little autobot, "And if ya want my help then I suggest you stop your complaining, let up with the sensitivity and let's figure this out together."

Bumblebee made a half angry, half pout face, wincing as joints sounded out in distress when he crossed his arms. Breakdown wondered: had he always been that stubborn? Or was he just stubborn in general? Whichever, this was definitely not a mission he looked forward to.

"Are your self repairs doing anything?" Breakdown asked to stifle the suffocation of silence.

"Kind of... They're being slow, and... I think somethings jammed," Bumblebee reached up and touched the foreign object sticking out the side of his optic lense, buzzing a pained noise, "What is that?"

Breakdown leaned forward slightly to get a closer look, "It looks like a piece of shrapnel. Must have been from the blast."

Bumblebee beeped again, flinching as he tried to pull it out, panicking slightly, "It won't come out!"

That wasn't a good sign. Breakdown knew how sensitive the optic nerves were, thanks to the humans... "Here..." He lifted his servo outwards, his voice far less happy than he intended, but it wasn't like he wanted to help the autobot, "Let me see."

"Frag you," Bumblebee's pained beep sounded low and dangerous as he held his optic, trying to keep from showing how badly it was hurting him, "I can get it myself."

"Not without losing an optic, ya won't," Breakdown said as he tried studying the wound, tapping his own optic, "Take it from me."

Bumblebee spared the blue wrecker a half inquired look at the black plate replacing what would be his right optic. "What happened?" he asked softly.

"Wrecker deal, nothin' I couldn't handle," Breakdown brushed the guilt from the lie away with ease, shrugging his shoulder, "Fact is I know how annoying it can be. So if ya'd just let me have a look then I may be able to help ya."

Bumblebee gave him those long, calculating optics again, and Breakdown really wished he could crush the damn things instead of offering to fix them. Eventually though, Bumblebee did succumb although very stiffly. He lowered his servo from his leaking optic, flinching when Breakdown moved forward.

Breakdown was crouching directly in front of the tense autobot, staring at his optic and reaching out to touch the bot's face. He didn't say anything when Bumblebee flinched harshly at his approach, and he certainly didn't say anything when said bot covered his own neck like he was afraid of being strangled or something. "Yep, it's shrapnel... Looks like it's lodged in your optic lense."

"So what do I do about it, oh wise one?" Bumblebee asked, his servos remaining on his neck as he looked away.

"Let me take it out or suffer through it," Breakdown shrugged like the offer stood heartlessly before them, "Your choice."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Bumblebee drew out cautiously.

Breakdown indulged him. He'd be suspicious too, especially if someone he didn't know offered to poke and prod at his optic. "Because I have better things to do than make your life a miserable scrap heap," he answered bluntly.

Bumblebee's working optic spun, and he nodded stiffly. Breakdown took the given privilege and reached back out again, using one servo to cup the back of the scout's head and the other servo to grasp the edge of the offending piece of shrapnel. But Bumblebee squirmed.

"Wait..." He said in a very small, whispering beep, the look on his face full of discomfort and... fear. He almost looked disturbed.

Breakdown retreated with a frustrated grumble, however, he didn't complain. Instead, he watched as the yellow bot drifted off in a painfully looking haze, his servos curling and squeezing protectively around his neck as he offlined his optics. It was as if he were... bracing himself, like this experience would be the worst he ever lived through.

"Alright..." He lowered his servos, optics still offline as he turned his helm back toward the wrecker.

Breakdown didn't question it. Simply resuming his task, cupping the bot's helm and reaching up to grab the piece of shrapnel. Bumblebee flinched and Breakdown wondered why he felt the need to say, "Relax... I ain't trying to hurt ya."

Bumblebee's optics flickered online, and Breakdown was going to ignore the strong hint of sadness in them as he wrapped two fingers around the shard, gripped and pulled. Bumblebee flinched and beeped a mess of strangled curses as the piece of shrapnel pulled free with an audio wrenching screech, the servos from his head leaving in an instant.

"Now..." Breakdown said flatly, looking at the rest of Bumblebee's damaged body, "For the rest..."


	2. Chapter 2

For thousands of years Breakdown never had encountered memory loss, processor damage or even brainwash side effects. He always was on the opposite side of dealing with those sorts of problems. Smashing things and causing unnecessary damage consistently always seemed more enjoyable than attempting mnemosurgery, trying to play medic, or fixing things he would normally break. And so he never knew quite how frustrating trying to help someone in need could be.

"If ya don't let me see it, I'm gonna smash your leg into a million, tiny micro-chips," Breakdown threatened, more tired than indignant as he anticipated fingering his temples.

The young, memory lost scout kept himself retreated in amongst the trees, knees drawn and servos pressed tightly to his chassis as he glared at the wrecker. "No way, scrappy, I'm not letting you touch my spark," he aggressively beeped.

Breakdown heaved a loud and heavy sigh, dropping his servos down to his sides and slumping. It would be so easy to just kill him or leave him; whichever served as the better qualification of getting the heck out of here and away from each other. Breakdown's patience was only so limited. As he gazed down at the annoying autobot, Breakdown just couldn't help but to relinquish all thoughts of running away or wrecking because of those deadly wounds. He couldn't help but remember that Bumblebee risked his life to save his, he suffered because of him, he gained memory loss because of him.

Breakdown wasn't sure, but it felt like his debt was far more difficult to pay off this time.

"Trust me... I wouldn't even wanna imagine touching your spark," Breakdown said gruffly, pretending to be disgusted, "I'm just tryin' to help ya get the chamber shut. If ya leave it open then you're wastin' energy, and if you're wastin' energy then you'll die, and if you die, well... You're dead."

Bumblebee gave him a stupid, dumb glare, helm tilted to the side and optics spinning slowly. "Thank you so much for the sparkling lesson," He chirped half heartedly, "I had no idea that leaving my spark exposed could kill me. And I also didn't know that letting strangers poke at it could result in getting me killed either!"

Breakdown was a blink away from snapping. His empty body was literally vibrating with anger, the circuits in his arms aching to grab and squeeze and crush until his own palms bled. But in the last moment, however, he got an idea and hid his smirk by raising his servos cooly in submission.

"Well then, I guess ya don't need my help," Breakdown stated calmly as he sat back and stood up to his unstable legs, "After all, I am just a stranger to you now that you've lost your memory. It's best that you're on your own."

Turning around, facing the dark, shady woods, Breakdown was glad his bulk hid his massive grin when he heard Bumblebee's alarmed series of beeps.

"You can't do that! I don't know where I am, or what to do!" Bumblebee frantically argued, gesturing wildly to the bizzare nature around them, "A-and I'm wounded- and you know more about what happened than I do!"

Breakdown turned around after leveling out his violent grin and flashed a smirk in the scout's direction, "You need my help? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Bumblebee's shocked and flustered face immediately turned flamed and angry as he turned his head away and grumbled harshly, "Yes..."

Helm tilting, Breakdown stood there and stared down at the misbehaving autobot, thinking about all the things he should be doing, all the things that was protocol for decepticon causes in situations like this, but yet he listened to his instincts-to his spark. It was a strange, unusual feeling. Stronger and more dignified than the feelings that he had felt when Bulkhead had saved him all those months back. And Breakdown honestly had no idea how or why the feelings were so much more powerful this time than ever before.

It was funny, and ridiculous, and sad. Breakdown thought as all the rude, mean and threatening things in which were sitting heavy on his glossa flourished into nothing familiar but empty uselessness. And he found himself slowly walking forward, kneeling back down before the stubborn yet badly wounded autobot.

Bumblebee's optics, unlike the innocent and joyously sweet spinning blue orbs they used to be were now dark and cold, staying at a constant straightforward zooming motion instead of the proud bravery they always used to be in whenever he was in the presence of a decepticon. At least that was what Breakdown remembered seeing. Even during times when Bumblebee was relaxed, he looked so peaceful and innocent; cute if he stood to admit it. Now they were just beyond copeless sobriety and sorrow. Breakdown had no ways of defining it, not in big words, not in small ones. It was just empty.

As the blue mech kneeled down directly before him, Bumblebee shrunk further into the tree trunk he had deemed worthy of his resting recliner for the meantime. He held his knees to his wounded chest and kept his servos close to his neck at all times.

"Let me see it," Breakdown gave the aimless command, waving his fingers in a forward motion, ignoring the way Bee stared at his servo like it was some deadly instrument meant to destroy the whole universe.

Bumblebee took time though, "I think I'll just sit this one out..." He seemed to have to drag his very intense stare from Breakdown's servo to his optics.

It took effort for Breakdown not to... break down as he kept his processor clean of curses and threats. "If ya sit this out then we're gettin' no where. You want salvation don't ya?" he asked, keeping his tone as calm and as collected as he possibly could.

Bumblebee looked at him with those brokenly experienced optics and spoke in sad sounding static, "Yeah, but I don't want some stranger laying their big, filthy, sharp claws on my spark."

Breakdown's optic squinted, and Bumblebee seemed to have noticed this with a humiliated, shamed glance away.

"Digits... I meant digits," He mumbled.

Something hit Breakdown, harshly. A mental rocket load of theories, questions and concerns, but he kept them to himself and remained stoic. "This is precious and all; you losing your memory and forgetting who your best friends are, but if I really wanted to hurt ya, I woud'a done so already. Don't think a wrecker forgets how to wreck," He said and tapped his own chest, "I wouldn't trust a soul to my spark either if I had lost my memory, but I also wouldn't trust myself to take care of it alone. So you can let me help ya so I can get ya home and get ya your memory back, spark still intact, or you can do it alone on a planet you know nothing about, wounded, and see where that path takes ya in the end... Your choice."

"You really have a thing for smashing crucial probabilities together, don't you?" Bumblebee asked with an unamused snoot on his face.

Breakdown couldn't help but to smirk in his direction, "It's called being stuck between a rock and a hard place. You'll learn more about it the more time ya spend here on this backwater dump."

"What is this place anyway? Why are we here?" Bumblebee asked as if Breakdown's words surfaced some forgotten, baffled emotions inside him, his optics looking around the tall moisty and damp, wooden things around them.

Breakdown kept his smirk in place as he glanced down at the bot's chest and pondered for a moment, "It's called earth; mudball for short... We're here to..." Autobot. Think autobot. "Because we needed salvation after Cybertron fell." 

Bumblebee looked up at him and then looked around as if what he saw was the strangest, most confusing freak of nature he had ever laid optics on. "Is..." He hesitated, digits digging into his armor as he nearly whispered, "Is Megatron here too?"

Breakdown was in his own rock and hard place as he thought about yet another topic he should or shouldn't lie about. "Yes," He decided to tell the truth at least about Megatron being here too, so that in some way, in case they were found, Bumblebee would have some type of sense in the matter.

Bumblebee looked at him, flashing a half second gaze of horror before glaring, "How long? How long have we been here?"

Breakdown shifted. Heck, he didn't know. "Few years..." He offered, not sure when exactly the autobots found their way to this mudball, "Maybe longer."

"You seriously don't know?" Bumblebee asked unhappily, clearly unsatisfied.

"I know you're asking a lot'a questions I don't give half a scrap about," Breakdown really just felt like activating his hammer, smashing into the autobot’s helm and seeing if that cleared everything up.

Bumblebee kept glaring at him, "I'm just trying to figure out what's going on."

"And I told ya already. Now let me see it or I'm leaving ya behind," Breakdown changed the tone of his irritated voice to tired and threatening, giving off the final warnings because this really was getting more ridiculous than it intentionally had to be.

Bumblebee gave him that stare again, but he didn't beep anything else out as he very slowly removed his servos from his neck and chest. It was the most hesitant of movements Breakdown had ever seen, but he ignored it simply because it shouldn't be important or even mean anything to him. He leaned forward and examined the damage, seeing how Bumblebee's spark pulsed brightly behind a gap in a broken space of armor.

"The latches of your chest plate are broken. Without em you won't be able to close the plates to protect your spark," Breakdown explained and tilted his helm, imagining what Knockout would do in a position like this. Buff job probably...

"So what do I do about it?" Bumblebee asked, his beeps angry and frustrated.

Breakdown looked at him and nearly sighed, "I have an idea, but I doubt you'll like it."

"Then forget it. I'm not letting you touch my-hey!" Bumblebee let out a large amount of startled beeps, reaching up to immediately push away the big servos on his chest.

"Hold still," Breakdown smirked, holding Bumblebee back against the tree with one servo while using the other to reach part ways inside his chest plate to grip the side edges and bend them forward.

I'm going to die. Bumblebee thought and froze as all he saw was dark grey and purple right before him. He blindly clutched his neck with weak servos and remembered the sound of raw, cruel laughter, big, sharp servos and terrifying promises and threats whispered repeatedly into his audios. He felt it all; the unforgettable phantoms running through his body, squeezing, crushing and tearing. The sounds, all so cruel and disgusting. 

"There," Breakdown leaned away from his work and gazed down at the bot's chest plate. It was still far from fixed, but at least he had bent the metal covering of his outer left chest plate to keep the middle one from hanging open. His smirk faded, however, once he looked up and saw only frozen horror on the yellow bot's face as he mindlessly held his neck and stared off into the afar.

"Hey...?" Breakdown reached out and touched the bot's shoulder, shaking him lightly, "You alright there, shorty?"

As if he had been awakened from a bad nightmare, Bumblebee gasped and jerked, shaking his helm and beeping out in confused pain. He zoned out for a moment, composing himself before noticing his now closed spark chamber.

"You... you fixed it..." Bumblebee beeped slowly in disbelief, staring down at his chest plate before looking up at the bigger bot, "Why?"

"That's what team members are supposed to do, right?" Breakdown ignored the previous melt down show and stood up, lifting his servo out.

Bumblebee's optics spun in suspicion and hesitancy, but he figured that if Breakdown really wanted to hurt him, he would have done so already with his exposed spark. Reaching up, he took hold of his big servo, beeping in pain as he was pulled onto his broken, unstable leg.

The touch and position almost reminded Breakdown of a situation he once was in, and felt a touch of pride in being in the reversed role of the problem at hand. He eased the bot onto his feet, barely letting go before quickly reaching out to catch him once he lost balance. "Whoa," He said in slight startlement, holding Bumblebee up by the waist and servo.

Bumblebee had part ways landed against the wrecker's chest with a soft clank, releasing a panicked yet embarrassing beep before realizing that he was not going to fall. Instead of the rough ground enveloping him, a big servo held his waist while another played as an anchor for his servo to lean on. He went silent, thinking about the stance he was in before slowly looking up at the bigger mech.

Breakdown was gazing down at him, his yellow optic holding a measured amount of emotions. Irritation, amusement and even concern. His body was warm too. Bumblebee realized with a small buzz, his spark feeling as if it had been physically touched by the larger mech's addictive heat somehow. He mentally scolded himself for thinking that way, for letting himself feel any type of admiration or thankfulness, because when did that ever bring him any good? 

Optics spinning to aggression, Bumblebee pushed against the wrecker's chest and beeped, "Let go! I can stand on my own."

As soon as he tried, however, Bumblebee only ended back up against the bigger mech's chest, his servos now holding his upper back and arm. "We need to get you off that leg," He said in barely surfacing concern.

"No slag," Bumblebee rolled his optics, his right leg shaking and tapping against the ground in misery.

"What's it say?" Breakdown asked, moving his arms up the scout's body to help support him better.

Bumblebee grumbled and pushed him away, beeping loudly, "What does what say? An-and stop that! I can stand on my own, you know!"

As soon as Breakdown's servos were absent from his body, Bumblebee achieved only three seconds of win before falling back on his aft, hard. He was lucky that the muck of this planet was soft or else his aft might be in more pieces than his leg. Beeping in pain and startlement, Bumblebee held his leg and cursed. This was miserable, and when he looked up at the wrecker, he immediately looked away and said quickly, "Don't-just... don't say anything, ok. I've had a slag enough day as it is."

Breakdown had been giving away his blandest, dumbest stare, but it faltered away into exhausted infirmities of expressions. "Look, scout, I'm just tryin' to help ya. I ain't got no traps, no plots, no orders- nothin' that means your helm on my hammers end, okay? Now I don't know what it is you're remembering, but I know it ain't good, so I'm just gonna tell ya that whatever it is, it happened long ago. Alright. It's finished. Whatever or whoever hurt you is gone or at least far away from this dump."

Was it really that obvious? Bumblebee thought sadly. The person who hurt him felt like a week ago, and they were here, on this planet, far closer than Bumblebee was comfortable with. He was still recovering from the... From things. Things that he never wanted to speak to anyone about. Ratchet was the only one who knew and even he swore not to speak to anyone about what happened to Bumblebee that day. That promise was made yesterday in his head, and the thing happened a week ago, still feeling as fresh in his head as it did in his body. 

Bumblebee wondered if Optimus Prime or any other autobots knew of his endurance during the war. Surely Ratchet wouldn't have said anything, but that didn't mean that he himself hadn't opened up to anyone. 

"Hey..." The beep was soft and hesitant. 

Breakdown honestly almost didn't think he heard it as he gazed down at the bot, his own optics squinting at his suddenly sad face. Bumblebee's optics were drenched over the ground and his body was still, servo still near his neck but lying limp. "Hmm?" He grunted. 

Bumblebee didn't look up as he dragged his gaze across the murky ground and dry leaves, his beeping still as soft and as hesitant as ever before. "Did I ever tell you or anyone else on the team about... about what happened that day? Do... do you know what happened?" He looked up, finally, his cold, confused optics holding in so much sadness and destroyed hope. 

Breakdown had never been looked at with such an expression. To him it was indescribable. The yellow bot's body was slump yet tense at the same time, almost appearing to be disappointed while at the same time hopeful, maybe even afraid. It was an overwhelmingly odd mixture of emotions crammed into one sight and one sound, and it was tearing Breakdown along with it. 

The wrecker stared down at the bot's wide, sad blue optics and twitching digits, internally frowning. "Does it have to do with your neck?" He asked, throwing the question out there with as much statement as he could sound out. 

Bumblebee nodded.

Breakdown almost tensed. He didn't know what to do or say. Bumblebee obviously bought the bait, now believing that he was an actual teammate. Great. Breakdown thought. Now he had to engage in mental therapy. Wait... What was he thinking? He didn't have to engage in anything! All he had to do was get the autobot stable, get him to safe grounds, turn tail and run, and he'd be found by his team.

That's it. That's all. The plan. Simple as could be.

"No," Breakdown shook his helm, trying to whisk away the small twinge of curiosity that had invaded in on his processor. It didn't matter what he went through, and Breakdown certainly didn't want to find out. No.

Bumblebee nodded, his optics casting back down to the ground. So he hadn't told anyone...

The sight made Breakdown feel glum inside, and he mentally fragged himself for giving in like he was. Withholding a small sigh, he kneeled back down and lifted his servo out, gesturing to the bot's ruined leg. "Maybe we can do a little analyzing, get this fixed before we get a move on... Whata' ya say?" He allowed his one optic to brighten slightly.

Bumblebee's baby blue optics slowly disengaged from the ground and he looked up at the bigger mech and then down to his leg. The damage was mostly around his thigh. The metal there was crumbled in, dented, slashed open and torn. Nothing delicate seemed particularly vulnerable, but his thigh was pretty smashed. The bottom part of his knee was what kept giving out, despite the heavy pain emitting from his thigh.

Looking up at the wrecker, Bumblebee buzzed, "Although I doubt your skills in medical care, I'd rather partially be able to walk rather than smell your repulsive tank systems lighting up my face."

Instead of being offended, Breakdown simply brushed the comment aside. The stubborn bot was cooperating even if it was in rude, snarky ways. At least he wasn't making that face anymore, or speaking in that alarmingly sad way.

"That's the spirit," Breakdown leaned forward slightly and examined what little he could see of the exposed thigh. "What's your self repair warnings say?"

"My what?"

"The red blinking light to the side of your holo-screen," Breakdown did sigh, because old Cybertronian technology was a pain in the aft.

Bumblebee made a small buzzing 'oh' when he found the light on his internal profile net and read over the many messages there. "I... I don't know," He stammered in beeps, "It's just says 'minimal damage received. Fix now.'"

"I gotta feeling this ain't minimal," Breakdown looked down at the bot's leg and pointed out, "Looks like your rotators given out 'round your thigh. It's connected to your knee which is why ya can't walk. Scrap... We're gonna need to lift up that armor in order of pushin' it back in place."

Bumblebee jerked at such a statement, "Lift my armor? Slag no! Are you crazy?"

"I'm gettin' ready to knock ya out," Breakdown said sternly because he was getting tired of his stubbornness. Truly, he was. "Now we need to get this fixed or risk not gettin' any where. And you don't wanna be left for the decepticons, do ya?"

Bumblebee glared at him. His optics were cold and frustrated, but not entirely dark like they had been. "You're incomprehensible," He said in a snide way and looked off, shoulders slumping, "So what do we do, oh wise one?"

Breakdown kneeled in front of him and lifted his big servos out as if he were medically trained. "Lift the armor up," He instructed.

"What are you going to do?" Bee asked suspiciously.

Breakdown answered kindly only for the sake of getting this done sooner. "Gonna look and see where the cups broken, find it and push it back into place," He explained, simple as that.

Bumblebee's optics turned to that distressing, focused stare for a few moments as he checked the bigger mech's face over for lies or ploys. He didn't want to expose himself. It was too risky, brought back to many memories. But it was do or die in this muddy wasteland, he supposed, and the wrecker had a chance to snuff his spark.…

With a hesitant beep, Bumblebee allowed the plating of his thigh to shift and immediately tensed. Breakdown ignored his odd posture and peeked at the gapped armor. He cautiously lifted a digit out and pressed it against the edge of the armor, lifting it slightly. "I see the cuff," He informed and slipped two of his fingers in, his large palms brushing the lower inside of Bee's thigh.

The armor was just above his knee, not necessarily anything special, but it made Bumblebee freeze anyway, his vents stopping. Images flashed repeatedly in front of his optics, dark glimpses of grey and purple, sharp and rough phantoms. He gasped lightly in horror. That thing that slid around his legs, tightening at his thighs to keep him spread for...

Breakdown had easily been able to push the cup back into place, smirking at his work. "That should do it," He pressed the armor politely shut and began to sit back, "Wanna give it a go and stand- hey? You alright?"

Bumblebee's optics were wide with what appeared to be much more than just fear as he stared up at the trees. Raising a brow, Breakdown looked back but saw nothing, so he gazed back at the bot and noticed that he was shaking, bad. His servos were dug at least half ways into the dirt. He looked like he was shortening out. "Whoa, hey, what's going on with ya?" He reached forward and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

"Hey, look at me," Breakdown felt a lick of panic jolt his spark, "Hey, scout, answer me."

Bumblebee was still frozen.

"Bumblebee!" Breakdown shook him by both shoulders.

Bumblebee came to, gasping for vents and nearly falling forward if it hadn't been for the wrecker's hold. His body seemed to convulse in spasms and he shook his helm frantically, vents stuttering and uneven.

"You alright?" Breakdown asked, one servo still resting on the bot's shoulder.

It was odd and rather concerning seeing Team Prime's scout so mentally disfunctional and out of sorts. The usually squeaky, happy bot seemed so much braver, so much stronger whenever him or Knockout fought him, but now he was just dead weight, frightened by every little move and touch, desperately suspicious and unsure. Breakdown didn't know what to do. 

It took a while, but Bumblebee finally grew the bearings to look up at the wrecker, his optics less intense yet withholding a great measure of sadness in them. His venting had slowed although it was still noticeably out of place, and his body was lightly trembling. 

"Wanna talk about it?" Breakdown offered, putting it out there in the least forceful way as he could. Honestly, he was very curious to know the bot's secret, but apart of him knew that he wasn't supposed to care. He was a decepticon. He was supposed to be appeased that something awful happened to an autobot. 

Bumblebee shook his helm in dismissive sorrow and looked down, soon taking notice to his leg. "You... you fixed it?" He asked softly like it were the most uncommon thing in the universe, "You-you didn't...?" 

Breakdown nodded, "It's what teams do, right?" 

"Yeah, but..." Bumblebee was cut off by the other mech suddenly standing up, his big servo lifted out before him. 

"Come on," Breakdown said, "We gotta lot of ground to cover before we get to salvation. You'll get your memory fixed soon enough and none of this'll be happening any more." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I luv dis pairing so much ^V^ I hope you all luv it too.


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